In the Valley of the Wolves
by turtoise
Summary: Being the carer of an octogenarian werewolf wasn't how Lara had thought she would repay the man who saved her life. But five years later her peculiar existence takes a turn for the crazier when she's dragged into a brewing war that's none of her business. A war that might just kill her if the wolves of Stonehaven don't get there first. AU S1. JD/OC. R&R if you please :)


_It's been a while since I've done this but when the muse commands I can only obey. I've read a couple of the novels (a long time ago) but am basing ITVOTW solely on the TV adaptation, giving me a little wiggle room for creative licence. To line up with the clear similarity in age between Nick and Jorge in the show, I've made Jorge Nick's cousin rather than his uncle and the late Gregory Sorrentino Jorge's father instead of brother. Antonio, Benedict and Gregory are still brothers and the sons of Dominic Sorrentino. Apologies to any canon purists out there. _

_ITVOTW_ _is rated T for violence and bad language. It should also be considered a canon divergent AU, running parallel but not identically so to the events of season 1 and taking place from episode 3 onwards. I'm gunning for an eventual Jeremy/OC pairing, if I can remember how to write romance that is :P _

_Also, for those who care, I don't own Bitten. __Anyway I hope you find this an enjoyable read, it is certainly proving to be a pleasure to write. I'd love to hear what you think. Bonne Lecture! :)_

* * *

**IN THE VALLEY OF THE WOLVES**

...

_Gathering Storm_

...

He told himself he didn't know why he called. But he did, and more than that he was well aware what a stupid thing it was to do.

When it came to his brother, Antonio knew it was better - _safer -_ to wait and let Benedict come to him. That soon enough word would spread amongst the Mutts, travel the length and breadth of the continent and eventually reach the AWOL Sorrentino, wherever he may be. But that would happen a hundred times slower than the few hours it took Antonio to track down a trustworthy acquaintance who knew where to find his brother, and this time he couldn't be patient like he always had been before. Not when Pete was dead. Pete, who Benedict had had a large hand in raising all those years ago.

The only way Benedict would know the truth about the young wolf's fate was if the information came directly from Antonio; otherwise he would hear, and believe, the same rumours and lies purposefully spread to prevent panic amongst the other families. The bottle of whisky he had drunk that evening decided it was news that had to be shared as soon as possible.

By the time he hung up he regretted it.

He hadn't doubted for a second that Benedict would get in contact when he heard the about the wolf attacks in Bear Valley. Whenever something happened involving the pack he always stuck his head above ground and discreetly checked in to make sure his family was safe and well. Despite his adamance that he couldn't be a part of it anymore he still kept an eye on them from afar, unable to turn his back on them completely. Because of it Antonio had never been able to understand why his brother had chosen to sever all ties to the pack in the first place. Going rogue had been an extreme, unnecessary choice; one that had torn apart what remained of their family. The pain, though suppressed, remained raw fifteen years later.

But still Antonio - in a fit of desperation - had sought out his brother even though he knew doing so put them both at risk. He should have waited, just like all the other times. Sooner or later Benedict would have contacted him; late at night or early in the morning, when they both could be sure no one was around to eavesdrop on their conversation. Jeremy didn't know that he still spoke to him. As dearly as Antonio loved his Alpha there were times when blood had to come before the pack, regardless of the price to be paid if they were ever caught. This was one of those times. People were dead, wolves and humans alike. And Antonio, who hadn't heard from his only surviving sibling in almost a year, was frightened that someone had murdered Benedict just like they had Malcolm and Pete.

He looked down at his hands. They were clean, but in the nocturnal gloom of the Stonehaven guest room the shadows looked like blood pooling on his palms. Every time he closed his eyes he could see Pete slumped against the boundary wall, beaten and bloody; his throat slit and his middle finger missing.

Momentary as it was the relief he had felt at hearing Benedict's voice at the other of the line had choked him up, though he did his best to hide it. From the rough quality of his brother's tone he hadn't been the only one doing so. It was a comforting thing to know.

And now he found that his efforts to bring himself some peace had instead only brought him more turmoil. It became clear as they talked that war was virtually inevitable, that an uprising by the Mutts had been a long time coming. The pack was under threat, the body count was going to increase, and there was a chance that they - and those they loved - would be part of the final statistic.

Which was why Benedict felt there was only one thing he could do, and why Antonio sat staring into the darkness long after his brother said good night.

Benedict was coming home, to Stonehaven, and Antonio was fairly certain it would kill him.


End file.
